


Pain and Feels

by Krzeslicko



Category: Kane and Feels (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hallucinations, see tw in the notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:20:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22057657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krzeslicko/pseuds/Krzeslicko
Summary: or my take on what happened between season one and two.With Kane gone Feels like he's going crazy- or has he already lost his mind?//PLEASE check out trigger warnings that can be found in notes before reading!//
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	Pain and Feels

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kivutio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kivutio/gifts).



> TW: Misuse of medication, hallucinations, suicidal behaviour, mentions of self-harm, drugs, smoking, mild panic attacks.
> 
> A short story I just had to get out of my system. I'm sorry if it seems OOC.
> 
> An explenation (if you want one) can be found in the notes at the end of the chapter.
> 
> I tried my best not to make mistakes but since English is my second language it's proven difficult over the years. Also, That's my last fic of 2019! I'm so happy I managed to actually finish it before New Year. Now I'm gonna go to sleep.
> 
> As always, big thanks to my lovely beta, kivutio. You're the best!  
> Hope you can enjoy!

There is a point in everyone’s life when, no matter how hard you try, failure is inevitable. It’s up to you if that moment will drag forever or just- return periodically to remind you of your limitations, of being human. 

There is nothing wrong with any of these options. Many people prefer laying low, relishing in their own misery. Some deny ever failing, swiping all mistakes under the metaphorical rug. 

Sometimes it’s simply easier to act like your world isn’t falling apart and every breath you take reminds you of all the wrong things you’ve done, things you should’ve said and you would’ve, for sure, if you _just_ had a chance to go back; if you _just_ thought for a single second and considered the impact your actions will have…

But you can’t. Go back, I mean.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful, though? To go back, to make every little thing right, make sure you don’t do that stupid thing when you were back in eleventh grade and everyone was doing it so you thought it was okay for you to do it, too. But it wasn’t okay and now you have to live with this decision, this mistake, this stain on your imaginative honour.

A cloud of smoke left Feels’ nostrils, floating towards the ceiling in chaotic shapes. One looked like a plane, he concluded, covering one eye with a free hand. Or a chicken. It could be a rose.

“Fuck” he muttered, not bothering to shake off ash from the almost finished joint. 

Bloody hell, did he miss Kane. The rude little man, who could act as if he knew the answer to God’s plan one second and behave like a dumbstruck teenager a moment later. Lucifer Kane, a man of thousand questions and no answer, with all his secrets and connections. Luce, a giant nerd with a tendency to first act then think when he was under pressure, only to stop himself on the last second. 

“If only you could see yourself” came a voice from behind him, though Brutus paid it no mind. He shut both of his eyes, relishing the last of whatever drug was in the joint this time. “You” cold fingers forced his eyelids open. “Are.” A wide, almost too wide, smile appeared before Feels. “Pathetic” chuckled NotKane with his usual venom.

With no answer from Brutus, NotKane grimaced. Then, his, _its_ , expression transformed into a mean sneer with a hint of wickedness behind it. The smoke-like form disappeared for a second, leaving a trail of vapour in the air, only to pop into existence much closer to Feels. 

NotKane’s knees were place on both sides of Brutus’s chest, the spectre laying flat on his stomach. Their faces were mere centimetres apart, ghost’s disfigured features on full display. Its face was ever melting, parts of its face always floating in different directions. An eye in a wrong place. Not enough skin to properly cover the void beneath it.

Brutus took pride he no longer flinched when NotKane surprised him in that way.

Trying to push the spectre off of himself he muttered a quiet “Not in the mood” before giving into the pressure and laying still again.

“You are”, the ghost feigned offence “never in the mood”.

“Yeah.”

NotKane stared at him intently before disappearing into existence behind the couch. A medallion hung freely from its fingers, shining like a beacon despite the room being coated with darkness. 

“Give it back!” Feels yelled into nothingness, raising with unexpected momentum. He knew looking around was not useless but he did it anyway. NotKane was gone, medallion with him. Frustration made Brutus exhale through the nose and he rose, joint forgotten, rolling down to the floor. “Fuck.” 

With swift motion he picked it up but the damage was already done. 

“Great.” Another scar to add to the expanding collection.

Getting up posed a bit of a challenge. Feels had no idea how long had he been in a state between dreams this time, although he guessed a while. There was an fair layer of dust on the coffee table. When he made to raise, he swayed. 

His head was killing him, now that Brutus thought of it. Same with his stomach. 

Somehow he managed to get up without major injuries and get to the cabinet with meds. No use checking which ones are before the expiration date, he figured, picking something at random. An orange tube with a scrapped off prescription looked promising. 

“Fingers crossed it helps.”

Swallowing medication without water was a skill he acquired after years of taking it, although he never considered it something pleasant. His hand moved to the tap, the other searched a decently clean glass. 

In the back of his head Brutus wondered if he remembered to pay the bills this time before a divine sound of water came from the pipes. That was a small victory.

The fridge worked well, too, even if its contents were… questionable. A half-eaten hamburger with no pickles and a rotten tomato did not qualify as a meal. Feels beat himself up for even considering the possibility. No, he should buy some real food.

Eyeing his appearance in a dusty mirror he discarded the possibility. It was a while since he showered. Long hair tangled and filthy, beard full of crumbles and clothes that have seen much better days. 

“You look disgusting.”

Feels bit the inside of his cheek at the remark but spared NotKane a look. It was the truth, could not be argued that if he came out like this… People would stare. Even more than normally.  
Moving past the ghost Brutus could feel his shoulders stiffen. Going to the bathroom meant- It meant-

“Passing his room.” NotKane snickered into Feels’ ear, somehow simultaneously there and _not there_. “And we both know how it ended” a ghost of touch on his forearms that made him flinch "the last few times”.

“Shut up.”

“Oh, you don’t mean it.”

Spectre appeared before him, smiling a smile too wide, showing off too many teeth. That did nothing to stop Feels’ hesitant steps. His stare was fixed on the bathroom door, meticulously ignoring closed door on his left.

Inhale. Exhale. 

“I think I know better what I-“

He was almost at the door-that-he-was-ignoring.

NotKane lost its opacity as it flied closer still towards Feels. No words were spoken as the ghost wrapped a hand around his neck, squeezing. Hard.

Air left Brutus’ lungs in an instant, leaving his gasping for it with painful sobs.

Wheezing, he forced his legs to move.

Tears strolled down his face but he pushed forward.

One leg-

After the other.

Then-

A familiar door and a cold doorknob in his hand. It was enough for Brutus to realise he was no longer having trouble breathing. Mouldy air felt like a blessing. He took in so much he felt his lungs ache, vision going dark for a moment. 

Then there was a laugh, his laugh, echoing in an empty flat. 

It wasn’t a nice sound, admittedly. It seemed rough and painful. Like someone trying their best not to crumble into meaningless pieces right there and then. Died out as soon as it started, too.

Leaving Feels on the cold, dirty floor, panting for air, with tears that couldn’t stop flowing from the tired eyes.

What shook him from this stupor was the sound of a kettle going off in another flat. It was so familiar and yet, Brutus found it difficult to remember when was the last time he mustered a courage to make himself a cup of tea. A simple act of filling the kettle with water and placing it on the stove felt impossible. 

He stared at his hands, taking in every bruise, cut, callous. How big they were. Remembering every punch, whether landing on someone’s face or destroying a piece of furniture. Tracing scars, new and old, making otherworldly patterns on his forearms. 

He was supposed to protect. To be strong and not- whatever he was doing now.

“Sulking.”

Laying in the bathtub, NotKane was watching him with both arms propped up on the edge of it. He looked disinterested, smoking a cigarette as translucent as him. His features were surprisingly normal. Only a dull glow coming from him indicated what he was.

What _it_ was.

“Go away, I want to shower” was the only answer it got from Feels, who was busy taking off his shirt and pants. When he looked up again, the only remain of the ghost was smoke climbing up to the ceiling.

When the first drops of water reached his skin, it felt almost unreal. Soap and water scrubbed grease and dirt from his body. Somehow the act cleansed him of every emotion, leaving him empty. I didn’t feel bad. Just new.

When it came to clearing his forearms, Brutus hesitated. 

“Aww, poor boy.”

NotKane was sitting cross-legged in mid-air, a derisive expression on its melting face. “Can’t take the sight of what he’s done?” Its demeanour was half-mocking, half-serious, another set of judging eyes materialising on its body. 

It appeared behind Feels, hugging him and guiding the showerhead towards his arms. He could feel the hair on the back of his neck standing up. Trying to supress the shiver did very little. With his knees buckling he could only watch the spectre work.

** ** **

Shower felt mind-numbingly good, even paired with snarky comments from the ghostly presence. It was the after that caused Brutus’ anxiety to spike. He wasn’t as agitated as before, however that changed with every passing second.

He had to change his bandages, too.

Feels scratched his forearms mindlessly before stopping himself. He would have to pass Kane’s room on his way out.

He sighed heavily “At least my headache is gone”. He would have to pick up some fresh clothes, too. And get something to eat, reminded his rumbling stomach.

Reaching for a doorknob made breathing steadily increasingly difficult. Closing his eyes helped a bit. So did counting steps.

One. Opened the door.

Two. Cold tiles under his feet changed into wooden parquet.

Three. Squeaking floorboards right next to Kane’s room.

Four. Don’t think about him.

Five. Or why he left you alone again.

Six. A sign of a once-upon-the-time fluffy carpet.

Seven. Safe.

Brutus opened his eyes and opened fists. He had to unconsciously clench them harder then intended. Fingernails were too short to slice through skin. It hurt but made no real damage. He mentally thanked himself for remembering to trim them.

Darkness before his eyes slowly subsided and his head was clear enough very soon.

He did it. 

Breathing was getting less and less demanding, which stirred something hopeful in Brutus’ stomach. A feeling that, if maintained, could bloom into something wonderful.

Sense of achievement diminished by a slow clapping noise coming from all over the room.

“A great accomplishment, honestly.”

NotKane floated in front of Brutus, not caring about pretences anymore. Its expression was simultaneously sombre and vicious. It wore real Kane’s medallion on its chest like a prize. “You showered. Really impressive.” 

Spectre floated around Feels as he picked less dirty clothes from the floor. 

“Do you want an award for it?” it mocked, voice tense. “’S not like everyone doesn’t do it every day.” 

Feels froze, t-shirt in hand. He looked right at the spectre and with every bit of emotion he could still feel, he said “I know. But that’s not what I did for the past month. So yes, I do want an award for showering and I do think it’s rather impressive”. His gaze wandered down, to slowly disappearing lower half of the body of the imaginary Lucifer Kane. The ghost was in deep thought, much like its real equivalent used to behave. “I could thank you but I rather think it’s all on me this time.”

He was met with NotKane’s persistent stare and then an unexpected smile. 

“So what will you do?” 

Brutus’ phone lit up, new message showing on the screen. The number was Unknown, but the content of the message brought back familiar memories. 

He looked up at his empty flat with renewed determination. Picking up a jacket from the chair a new resolve formed in his brain. He had to leave the past be. Lucifer Kane might be gone without a trace, but Brutus Feels was still there. 

“I don’t know what I am going to do” he answered NotKane with a quiet but forceful tone. “But I won’t let it defeat me. I might have, for a while, but now is now and then was then.” Picking up his keys felt foreign, but he would get used to it again. “I will deal with it eventually, I’m the Rock after all.”

And now… Now, he had a client. And he had a case. 

After all _that_ was what was important.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy it was painfull to write. But I just had to, you know? At first I had the first few sentences in my head and then I thought 'what if...' and that was it. An angst wagon if you will.  
> Honestly I don't know if it should count as angst or hurt/mild comfort. Because the latter is my favourite genre at the moment, i'm gonna say it's pure hurt.
> 
> My theory of what happens in the fic:
> 
> Basically, the main idea was that after the end of Wonderland Feels is lost without Kane and has a very dangerous depressive episode (lasting a few weeks/a month), during which he's not able to talk to anyone or even take a shower. During this period of time he begins to hallucinate his own, twisted version of Kane. It says what Feels thinks Luce would say (take under consideration his awful mental state) if he say him sulking like this.
> 
> In my mind Feels either begins to self harm/continues it from his previous depressive episodes/even tries to take his own life away. He lives, obviously, but is left in even worst state of mind that previously.  
> In this fic he lives through a kind of manic episode that leaves him not cured, but on a way to a better state of mind. He's not better in a way that he might start obsessing over something else than Kane (the case) but at least he's no longer suicidal.
> 
> So it's a bitter sweet ending after all.
> 
> That's what happens according to me, though i'm curious what're your interpretations.


End file.
